Maybe Third Time's The Charm
by Costas TT
Summary: Kate should really watch her mouth, as what she said to Castle on the day of Ryan's wedding comes true, only in a way neither of them expected. Expect murder, plenty of funny situations and, of course, more relationship development. Post 4x17 AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Hello again. This is my first attempt at a Castle story that is more than a collection of one-shots. It begins with a case, but will focus on Castle and Beckett's relationship as well. It's been in the works for a while, but the first installment is now ready.  
>The usual disclaimers apply to this and all subsequent chapters.<br>I hope you enjoy it.

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><p>Captain Victoria Gates paused at her office door and cast a glance around the bullpen. It was mostly deserted at this late hour, the only ones present being what had become her favorite band of detectives: Katherine Beckett, Javier Esposito and Kevin Ryan. Only a certain wealthy author who'd been of surprising help to them was absent. Beckett was fast asleep at her desk, head pillowed on her arms. Ryan was also snoring away and he looked about ready to topple off his chair. Esposito was the only one awake, and he was at the espresso machine making a cup of coffee. When first assigned to the 12th, she had been surprised to see that particular appliance, until she learned it was a donation to the precinct by none other than Richard Castle.<p>

"Detective Esposito," she called.

"Captain," Javi replied.

"How's it going? The case, I mean."

"It's kicking our ass. We spent all day interviewing potential witnesses, canvassing the area and looking for security and ATM camera footage. We got zilch. CSU reports came back negative, too. Our killer was very careful not to leave any trace behind. I don't get it. Our vic was killed in a busy, very public place, yet not one person noticed? Someone ought to have seen something." He set the coffee cup down on his desk in time to catch Ryan and keep him from falling as he shifted in his sleep. "That was close. I'd never hear the end of it from Jenny if I let anything happen to her brand new husband while in the precinct."

"You've all been going flat out for thirty-six hours, Esposito. Go home, get some rest and start afresh tomorrow, all three of you." She moved to Beckett's desk and shook the younger woman awake. "Kate, wake up and go home."

Beckett came awake with a start. "Uh, yes sir. It's not like we made any progress on the case."

"I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but we should tap every resource, including Castle. Where is he, by the way?"

"Book tour," Kate replied, rubbing her eyes. "In DC. His latest Nikki Heat novel is a raging success. Just like the previous ones."

"When is he expected to be back?"

"Sometime today." Kate's eyes sparkled when she gave Gates the answer.

"You miss him already? He's only been gone a few days."

"It's what he promised to bring me."

"And what might that be?"

"He promised to bring me a signed first edition hardcover copy of Temperance Brennan's latest novel." Now her eyes lit up like a kid's on Christmas Eve. "He knows her personally."

"You seem to have a thing for mystery novels, Detective."

"I'm a fan of the genre."

Gates murmured something that sounded suspiciously like "not just of the genre, from what I see happening here every day", while walking back to her office, but Kate didn't hear it. She was busy gathering her stuff and checking her watch.

"In fact, Castle is already back, but he had a book signing scheduled. I'll call and tell him to come over first thing in the morning, Captain," Beckett called out.

"Very well, Detective. Now, off you go and goodnight."

"Goodnight sir."

-o-

"Is the precinct up for review or something?" Kate asked her partners while they were all in the elevator. "She seemed pretty anxious to have Castle help us on the case."

"She's warmed up to him," Esposito replied.

"He melted Captain Permafrost?" The moment she said that, both Esposito and Ryan shot her curious looks. "His words, not mine," she clarified.

"She saw first hand how helpful he can be, Beckett," Ryan said. "He's worked with us on about twenty cases since she came here."

"Kev's right, Beckett," Espo added. "When you and he were missing and damn near became kitty kibble, do you know what she told that DEA agent?"

"I have a feeling you're about to tell me."

"She told him that _two_ of her people were missing."

"Then she considers Castle part of the team. I had a heart to heart with her while you, Ryan and Castle were making fools of yourselves in Atlantic City, and I made it clear that I always consider Castle to be part of my very good team."

"And tomorrow said very good team is getting back together again," Ryan said optimistically. "By the way, the precinct is not up for review. We're already above the mandated minimum anyway. Gates probably wants Castle around to help close the case quickly. She's had first hand knowledge on how helpful he can be. I think the case with the sniper was the turning point for her."

-o-

"Admit it my dear Detective Beckett, you've missed my sultry voice," Castle answered the phone early in the morning.

"Shut up and come over to the 12th ASAP," Kate growled while trying to put her high heeled boots on.

"We got a case?"

"And, like Esposito said last night, it's kicking our ass."

"I'll be happy to get you out of the fix."

"Don't be so cocky, Castle. There is nothing to go on. No witnesses, no evidence, nada."

"I'm sure I can come up with a good theory or two. See you at the precinct, Detective."

"Don't forget to bring me something edible." She wasn't sure if he heard the last part, but a girl could hope, right?

It took Castle less than twenty minutes, including making a stop for coffee, to arrive at the precinct. He cheerfully greeted the officers at the entrance and made his way to the elevator, holding two paper cups of coffee and a bag filled with donuts, croissants and bear claws.

"Here you go Kate, Grande Skim Latte, two pumps sugar-free vanilla. You also have a choice between donuts, croissants and bear claws."

"Thanks." She took a sip of coffee. "I think I'll have a croissant."

"Help yourself. Also, I'd like to see what you've got so far on the case."

"Sure," she said and bit into her croissant. "Hmmm, nice. Is that chocolate and cream filling?"

"Guys," Castle motioned to the other two as he nodded to Beckett.

"Hey bro, what's up?"

"I'm back. And I brought pastries. Dig in."

"Thanks."

Castle moved to the murder board. "Give me the background."

"The victim is one Ian Lawrence, stockbroker," Esposito replied. "He was found dead two days ago, in a toilet stall at a diner. He drowned after someone gave him a swirlie. The problem is that we have no witnesses, security cam footage or trace evidence to point to the killer."

"A swirlie," Castle repeated. "It's kind of imaginative, I must say. Whoever killed him might have wanted to torture him first."

"Practical joke gone wrong?" Ryan guessed.

"You said he was killed in the restroom of a diner?"

"Yes," Kate said.

"Strange there are no witnesses."

"According to Lanie, time of death was very late at night. The victim had been working late. The place would have had very few customers."

"Still, someone ought to have seen something… Unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Take a look at the crime scene photos. There is an opening window right above the stall. Our killer could have been following the victim, saw him heading for the restrooms, gone to the alley, opened the window, which is big enough for a fully grown man to squeeze through, entered, killed the victim and exited the same way. Have CSU look for evidence on the window and the alley. Also, have uniforms canvass for witnesses and security cameras around the alley."

"It makes sense," Kate said. "It also explains the lack of witnesses. We were looking in the wrong place."

"I'll call CSU," Ryan offered. He reported back to the others a minute later. "They'll be on it. But what Castle said suggests premeditation, which is not what you might expect from a high school prank."

"High school prank!"

Kate, Javier and Kevin exchanged looks. Castle was obviously on to something. He had been on the case for just a few minutes and he was already hot on the trail of something. What it was and how he had figured it out, they didn't know – yet.

"Mr. Castle," Captain Gates said from behind them.

"Captain," Castle greeted her respectfully.

"It's nice to have you back again. I see you're already tackling the case."

"Yes, it's intriguing to say the least." He spotted someone near the break room. "Excuse me," he told Gates. "Ann!"

Officer Ann Hastings walked over to them. "Hello Mr. Castle, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine, thank you. Say, is Paul at work today?"

"He sure is."

"Can you give me his number please? There is something I want to talk to him about."

"Certainly," Ann smiled. She scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to Castle, who nodded his thanks and turned away for a minute to make a phone call.

"He'll be here shortly," he announced.

"I don't see how Mr. Whittaker can help."

"Call it a hunch, Captain Gates. But something about this case had my spidey senses tingling. It only remains to be seen if it pans out. In the meantime, can I offer you a bear claw?"

"I'd love one. Thank you Mr. Castle."

-o-

Paul Whittaker arrived soon afterwards. "Hey everyone," he said.

"Paul, thank you for coming by on such short notice. Did you bring what I asked for?"

"It's all in here." He patted his briefcase.

"Let's take this to briefing," Castle suggested. They all filed into the briefing room and took seats.

Gates was about to follow them when another detective stopped her. "What are they up to now?"

"That's what I'm going to find out. Mr. Castle's brainstorms sometimes pan out."

"Sometimes? Try all the time, Captain. His craziest, most outlandish theories are mostly to interject a measure of humor, but when he has something good he shares it."

"Let's see what it is this time."

"What are you looking for?" Paul asked.

"I'm not sure… It's just… something about the latest case we've got rang a bell."

"Well, these are all the articles from the Ledger on homicides from the last three weeks."

"Before we start, I'd like to ask you not to reveal anything about what we'll be discussing today. But if I'm right, you'll have a nice little exclusive."

"I'm game."

Paul, Ann, Gates, Kate, Ryan and Esposito watched impatiently as he browsed through the stack of printed pages, all photocopies of articles in the Ledger. After finishing each one he would put it aside and then move to the next one.

"Aha! I knew it wasn't my imagination!"

"Castle?" Kate queried.

"Hold on to your horses Kate. I'm not done yet…" It took another few minutes to double-check his findings before looking up to face his audience. "It was not an isolated incident," he said without preamble.

"Meaning?" Gates asked.

"There are two more murders staged like high school pranks. The first one occurred almost three weeks ago. The second took place exactly eleven days ago, and of course we have our current case."

"What are you suggesting, Castle? Do you mean that the perp is the same for all three murders?"

"If it's not the same killer, then we're talking about amazing coincidences, Espo."

"The staging tipped you off?"

"We'll have to confirm with the precincts investigating the other two homicides, but yes, it was the staging. The first victim was found inside a locker in a closed gym. The second was found under the bleachers of a high school football field."

"I covered that one," Paul said. "The victim was found naked. I didn't include this particular detail in my article, out of respect for the deceased, but the groundskeeper found him frozen under the bleachers in his birthday suit."

"Left naked under the bleachers? Typical high school prank."

"Yeah, except pranks like that take place after spring break, not in the middle of winter," Ryan added.

"Do you think we may be dealing with a serial killer?" Paul asked.

"To be frank, the thought crossed my mind. But in my experience, sometimes crimes with motive are presented as the work of a serial killer. Captain, we'll need to get the files from the other precincts. We should also see if the victims are connected in some capacity."

"I'll see to it. Anything else, Mr. Castle?"

"There is something, but I don't know if you're going to like it."

"And what would that be?"

"Beckett, Ryan, Esposito and I worked a serial killer case once, in collaboration with the FBI."

"You want to call Jordan Shaw?" Kate was a little bit surprised.

"She may be able to help. If similar killings have taken place elsewhere…"

"Castle's right," Esposito interjected. "We should at least look into it."

"You guys just want Shaw and Avery to bring their smart board and the Fed-mobiles again."

"Boys will be boys," Castle said innocently. "But you're right. We shouldn't cry wolf unless we're sure we are indeed dealing with a wolf, or, in this case, a serial killer."

"Get the files from the other precincts, including medical examiner and CSU reports. Mr. Castle, you and Detective Beckett see if you can find any connections between the victims. If not, contact the FBI and ask if there have been any murders with the same MO in the tri-state area."

"If the killings are confined to New York, I'll inform Agent Shaw that we can handle the investigation," Beckett added.

"Keep me informed of your progress and whereabouts. Carry on."

"Yes Captain," they chorused.

"A possible serial killer case," Paul mused. "Works for me."

"Remember to keep your mouth shut. You never heard anything," Ann reminded her boyfriend.

"Play your cards right and the Ledger gets the exclusive, like I said in the beginning."

"I have to go back to the paper. It was nice seeing you all again, guys."

"Likewise, Paul," Castle said. The reporter shook hands with everyone, gave Ann a peck on the lips and left. Gates also left for her office to answer a phone call.

-o-

"According to the information we have on our victim and those we gleaned from the Ledger articles on the others, all three had the following things in common," Castle summarized. "They were about the same age, they were all men, and they were successful both in their personal and their professional lives."

"Go on," Kate encouraged him.

"Now, assuming they were all murdered by the same person, they must have crossed paths with the killer at some point. If I were to do a profile, I'd say the killer is also male, of about the same age as his victims. He probably was an outcast at school, not one of the popular crowd like his victims were. He must have led a normal life until just a few weeks ago, when an event of some sort brought it all upside down and reminded him of a time he'd managed to forget, quite likely after quite an effort and maybe therapy, triggering his rage, which was then channeled into the murders. The three murders were an outlet for the killer's hitherto suppressed rage."

"Or, it could be something more pedestrian," Kate added. "He could have killed the victims for other reasons and staged the crime scenes to throw us off."

"All the above is conjecture, of course. To confirm or reject the theories, we need the case files from the other precincts," Esposito said. "When are we going to have them here?"

"Sometime later today, I guess," she replied. "Depends on how fast Gates can get things moving. So, tell me, how was your book tour? How many chests did you sign?"

"Ha-ha, very funny, Detective. To tell you the truth, it was fine. And I didn't attend any parties. Hence, no opportunities for chest signing arose." Of course, he didn't tell her that hers was the only chest he wanted to sign. It had been for a long time. For the moment he was content to watch her drink her coffee and munch on her croissant while marveling at how quickly he'd provided them with potentially useful clues.

Suddenly, she looked up sharply. "Castle, where is my book?"

"Damn! I had this nagging feeling I'd forgotten something today. Now I know what it was. No need to worry though, it's safe and sound in my place, waiting for you."

"Good to know."

"For what it's worth, I think you should also know that I had to fight for it."

"Castle, you know Dr. Brennan personally. Surely, she and her publicist would have given you the VIP treatment."

"Them yes, her daughter no," he replied. "For a baby, she's a very curious little devil and tends to grab at anything within reach. She kind of reminds me of Alexis, in fact, when she was a baby."

"Really? You had to save the book from her daughter?"

"Yep. By the way, Temperance and I have a lot in common, not the least of which is that we draw inspiration for our books from our partners while solving crimes."

-o-

"Beckett! My office," Gates called. Kate and Castle exchanged looks. Then they got up and hurried to the Captain's office.

"Yes, sir?"

"The couriers with the files from the other precincts will be arriving shortly. Since you're in charge, I expect you to sign for them."

"Yes sir."

"How did the people from the other precincts take it? Did they resent having to send us their case files?"

"If anything, I'd say they were relieved to have someone else deal with the cases, Mr. Castle. They had nothing to follow up on, not a shred of evidence. In fact, your guess about the cases being connected was the first solid lead in any of those murders."

"Three murders to investigate, possibly the work of a serial killer…" Castle mused as they left Gates' office. "We'll need more boards."

"We'll get right on it," Esposito volunteered. "Come on, Ryan."

"In the meantime, I'll familiarize myself with what we've got so far. Okay, let's see… Victim three, if the cases are connected, is Ian Lawrence, 30, works for a financial firm downtown and was killed downtown."

"Yes. A few blocks from the office building where he works," Beckett confirmed.

"Then it's safe to assume that the killer followed him there. Maybe he chose him as a target of opportunity, or maybe he had him under surveillance, learning his habits, his vulnerabilities…"

"You mean he was stalking him."

"Like a hunter would stalk his prey."

"Uh-huh."

"Did Lawrence have any family?"

"His parents are still around and live in Staten Island. He's single, apparently had his share of girlfriends, but claimed to be too young for a steady relationship, although he was hoping for one in the near future."

"Any siblings?"

"Yes, an older brother, who lives and works in San Francisco."

"Could he be our suspect?"

"No, he had no reason to kill his brother. As a matter of fact, they were very close. He even wanted to invest in a venture Ian suggested to him."

"So it's not the brother."

"Yo, Beckett!" Esposito called out. "There's some guy from the 27th for you here. Says he's got the files we're expecting."

"I'll be right over."

"Two down, one to go," Castle said once Kate came back with the package. "Let's see what's in here about Mr.…" He looked at the folder jacket. "William H. Simpson."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** Time to continue the story. This chapter is also case heavy, but don't worry, folks. We'll soon get to the good stuff, or rather to more good stuff, as them working together is always interesting. I only hope to be able to do them justice.

In addition, thank you for the warm welcome you gave this story in the form of reviews, favorites and alerts. It certainly sets the bar high, but it's a challenge every writer should relish.

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><p>"William Simpson, 31 years old, lived in Manhattan. He was the first victim. Someone stuffed him in a locker. According to the medical examiner, he died of hunger and thirst. It was a slow death. Nobody deserves that. A homeless guy setting up a squat found him and called 911," Beckett read from the file.<p>

"Is he connected to our latest victim in any way?"

"No, judging from what there is on file. He grew up in Jersey, moved to New York after finishing college and got a high paying job at a real estate firm."

"There must be a connection to our other two victims."

"Or, we are indeed dealing with a serial killer, one who's targeting successful men in their early thirties."

"Yes, but how does he choose his victims?"

"The detectives at the 27th talked to his girlfriend. Simpson was a popular guy, no one had any beef with him…"

"The lives of Simpson and Lawrence, do they intersect? Personally, professionally… there may be something we're missing here."

"Nope. They were from different states, went to different colleges, but we don't yet know if they ever did business with each other."

"Have Ryan and Esposito look into it. In the meantime, we'll have to wait for the file on the second victim."

"Espo," Kate began.

"We heard you and we'll get right on it."

"OK. You take Lawrence's client list and Ryan can take Simpson's. Call their bosses and ask them to fax over the lists."

"Is Detective Beckett here?"

"Yeah, that's me," Beckett replied.

"My name is Foss and I'm from the 53rd. I have some files for you, Detective."

"Yes, thank you."

"Please sign here."

"OK."

"Do you really think the case might be connected to yours? Because it had all the guys at the precinct stumped."

"I guess we'll have to see how it goes. Thank you, Officer Foss." She took the box and moved to the third murder board they had set up near their desks. Rummaging through the box containing the files, she began putting up photos and making notations.

"What do our brethren from the 53rd have to say, Beckett?"

"Hold on to your horses, Castle. I'm still setting up the murder board."

"OK." With nothing else to do, he picked up a summary of the canvassing reports, as compiled by the people from the other precinct. "There is a pattern here."

"Care to clarify?"

"The victim, Clint Underwood, 30, of Brooklyn, was found naked under the bleachers of a high school football field."

"We already know that."

"Let me finish. He died of exposure, not quite an unnatural ending considering the season. There were no witnesses, as the murder took place on a weekend and there is a distinct lack of physical evidence. Not even footprints, as the ground was either concrete or too cold. Our killer knows what he's doing."

"Yo Beckett!" Esposito called out. "CSU just called. They finished the sweep at the diner and the alley."

"And?"

"Big fat zippo," he replied. "The window had been wiped clean and yesterday's rain washed away all the evidence in the alley. If there was any to begin with."

"Our killer may be seriously disturbed, but he's smart," Ryan added.

"What did Underwood do for a living?"

"Hold on a second." Castle leafed through the files. "Ah! Here it is! He owned an auto shop."

"Strange. The others both had high-end white collar jobs."

"It's not so strange if you read the rest of it. Our Mr. Underwood had a degree in engineering. He also loved cars and apparently decided to make a career out of it. His shop did serious custom work in addition to more mundane stuff."

"What about his personal life?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

"Is it juicy?"

"Not as juicy as Michael Bailey's philandering, but he was quite the womanizer."

"So he liked fast women in addition to fast cars."

"Exactly."

"Is there a phone number for his business?"

"Um, yes, there's one right here. I can call and have them send over a client list."

"By all means, Castle, go ahead."

He smiled and reached for the phone, dialing a number and putting it on speaker.

"Hello?"

"Hello, my name is Richard Castle and I'm consulting with the NYPD."

"Richard Castle the author?"

"On my better days."

"Martine James, Mr. Underwood's assistant." There was a tinge of sadness in the woman's voice. "What can I do to help, Mr. Castle?"

"I was wondering if it would be possible to fax over a client list. I'll give you the number."

"Sure, I can do that."

Castle gave her the precinct's number, thanked her and hung up. "We'll soon see if our victims knew each other. In the meantime, let's order lunch. Is Chinese OK?" His phone rang and he answered it. "Castle… Hello Gina… It's finished and I'm proof reading it. You'll have it on your desk as soon as I'm done… Ok, bye."

"You finished a book?" Ryan asked.

"My fourth Nikki Heat novel," he smiled. And then he saw the look on Beckett's face. "Don't worry, Detective. I'll make sure you get an advance copy."

She smiled. Her mind was already planning an evening of reading the new Nikki Heat novel in her bathtub, with a glass of good wine and scented candles lit.

-o-

"What if we don't find any connections between the victims?" Esposito asked, biting into a spring roll.

"The cases are too similar to be isolated incidents," Castle replied. "Even if nothing pops out from cross-examining their business dealings, it doesn't mean the killer didn't know them somehow. Hey, you could check their financials for the usual red flags: gambling, prostitution, drugs… There is always a chain of events that makes everything make sense. My motto," he smiled.

"Unless," Kate began.

"Unless what?" Castle, Esposito and Ryan asked in unison.

"The killer may have chosen the victims randomly. Say, off websites or something."

"Not bad, but there is a flaw in your logic, Kate." He dug into the double cooked pork as he spoke.

She glared at him. "I'm listening."

"All our victims grew up in different places and went to different schools. How could the killer have known where to look?"

"Oh. You've got a point there."

"Still, we should look into it."

"Ryan, I hope your Google-Fu is strong," Beckett said.

"What are you and Castle going to do?"

"We'll talk to the people close to our victims, see what shakes out."

"Talk to enough people, something usually shakes out," the three men chorused her mantra.

"Shut up and finish your lunch so we can get back to work."

-o-

"I called judge Markway. He agreed to issue a warrant for the victims' financials, phone records and the like."

"When are we going to have them?"

"Tomorrow, I guess. By the way, he says hi and also that you need to go golfing together some day soon."

"I'll be sure to give him a call. By the way, I'm setting up a poker game with the judge and the mayor for next week. Are you in?"

"This time I'll show no mercy, Castle."

"Prepare to lose your paycheck, Beckett."

"Ha! As if!"

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Bah."

"You did lose the other time, when we played here, at your desk, remember? And now we'll be playing on my home turf."

"What are you two up to now?" Gates asked, hearing them bicker, a not altogether rare occurrence with those two, but it always made her curious.

"Detective Beckett seems to think that she can beat me in next week's poker game with my Gotham City Crew."

"Excuse me?"

"I regularly host games at my place. I play either with fellow writers like Patterson and Connelly, or with the mayor and judge Markway. Captain Montgomery used to be a regular at the games, too. Beckett, Ryan and Esposito also come over from time to time."

"It's a good way to blow off some steam," Beckett pointed out.

"You could join us, Captain Gates. If you play poker, that is."

"I'll think about it. Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Castle."

"You are welcome." He turned to Kate and smiled. "She really is warming up to me."

"She is," Beckett agreed. "In the meantime, your speculative profile was right on the money so far. All statements collected so far have one common denominator: the three victims were very popular guys. Everybody loved them."

"Care to bet that I'm right on my speculative profile on the killer as well?"

"It wouldn't surprise me. Anyway, the moment the victims' financials come in, I'm having Esposito and Ryan go through them with a fine toothed comb."

"What about us, what are we going to do?"

"We'll talk to the victims' families and friends."

Not long afterwards, both other cops came to Beckett with news. Ryan had found no definitive indications that the killer might have chosen the victims from the internet. He and Esposito also came up dry comparing the victims' business dealings. Lanie came in just then.

"Tell me you have something useful to tell me," Kate begged her BFF.

"Writer Boy's hunch was right on the money, at least as far as victims one and two are concerned. The killer knocked them both out the same way. The bruising and contusions were identical. The ME who did Simpson's autopsy missed the traces, as they were almost gone by the time he died, but thanks to your partner here I knew what to look for and where."

"Aha! I knew it!"

"Lanie said there are similarities on two victims. She didn't say anything about Mr. Lawrence."

"They were all conscious when they died," Lanie supplied.

"She means that the killer knocked Simpson and Underwood out, carried them to the crime scenes and left them there to die. But… something doesn't quite jell. Underwood would have been free to run around when he regained consciousness. Didn't he at least try to seek shelter, escape from the football field, or call for help?"

"I found faint marks on his left ankle. The killer had tied him down."

"With what?"

"It wasn't rope."

"Underwood had a car shop," Castle mused, taking another look at the CSU report on the Underwood crime scene.

"So?"

"The killer could have used a tow shackle tethered by a chain to the bleacher supports. Look at this paragraph here." He handed the report to Beckett. It mentioned fresh scratches on the paint of one of the supports.

"Castle's on to something," she told the others after reading the indicated text.

"If I were writing the story, the killer would have wanted his victims to suffer. We know Simpson did, dying slowly of thirst and hunger in a locker. Lawrence drowned, which is a horrible death anyway. As for Underwood, I think the killer might have brought him around after tying him down. He'd have wanted him to feel it, suffer as he succumbed to exposure. Then, after his victim died, he went back and took away whatever he'd used to tie him down, leaving no useful evidence behind for us to find."

"It's official. The victims are connected. But the only connection we have found so far is the killer. And we have no idea where to start looking for him."

"We could reach out to psychiatric care facilities," Esposito suggested.

"It wouldn't work. We'd have to be pretty vague, asking about patients with alienation and isolation issues dating back to high school. Plus, the killer might or might have not sought specialized aid to overcome his issues."

"We're talking about a huge pool of potential suspects," Ryan agreed.

"It's hit or miss at best," Castle added.

"But now we know more," Beckett said. "Castle, let's go. I want to talk to the victims' families and friends. We'll start with Simpson's, since he was the first victim."

-o-

"I'm impressed, Castle," Beckett said as they were leaving the building where Simpson's girlfriend lived. "You asked all the right questions and didn't let slip the possibility of a serial killer case. I'll make a detective out of you yet."

"Thanks, but we've learned nothing new and certainly nothing useful."

"Let's go talk to Underwood's secretary."

A little while later, they were in Underwood's custom auto shop. Castle was definitely impressed and he could tell that Beckett was, too. The secretary, a pretty redhead in her late twenties, let them in.

"Even though it's been almost two weeks, I look at the door and half expect him to come in, go change into his lucky coveralls and get to work on some car," she said.

"Ms. Mills, did Mr. Underwood have any disputes with clients?"

"No, he was all for getting along with people. I knew him ever since I started high school. We went back almost ten years. He was a great guy and a great friend."

"Were you involved, romantically?"

"Romantically no, casually yes," Mills replied. "He dated my older sister back in high school and that's how I met him. Then, she went away to college, got a job and started a family in Pennsylvania. Clint knew I had secretarial experience, so when he first opened the shop he asked me to come work with him. I said yes without a moment's hesitation."

"Are there any tools or parts missing?" Castle asked suddenly.

"I'll have to ask Frank to check."

"Who is Frank?"

"Frank is… _was_ Clint's apprentice. The kid has talent, so Clint took him under his wing. The two were very diligent at keeping inventories. And they were great friends, too. Before Clint disappeared, they were talking about going to see the Yankees game."

"I can see Mr. Underwood liked sports." Castle remarked, seeing a shelf full of trophies in Underwood's office.

"These date back to high school… You know, I met him when my sister took me with her to see a game. That was when we were formally introduced to each other."

The rest of the interview didn't take long. By the time they were back at the precinct, it was late and decided to leave the interviews with the people in Lawrence's life for the following day. Castle suggested having dinner at Remy's together, so he, Beckett, Esposito and Ryan wrapped it up at the precinct and went to their favorite burger joint.

Kate slurped at her shake contentedly. "This is perfect. Right now, all I need is a good lead on the case."

"How could have I missed it?"

"Castle?"

"Sports! All three victims were on their respective high school teams!"

"So?"

"What if their teams played against the killer's team and consistently won?"

"The killer was a sore loser?"

"It's a new angle. It will take us all of five minutes to run checks on the web and see if anything pops," Ryan said. "But it will have to wait until tomorrow."

"We know, Honey Milk," Esposito teased him.

-o-

"Nada," Esposito declared. "I ran the teams, even called the schools. As it turns out, Underwood's school played against Lawrence's once, but not Simpson's school. The final nail was that Lawrence wasn't even in the game. He was recovering from an appendicitis operation at the time."

"Still, it was an idea," Beckett said. "Come on, Castle. We'll go talk to people in Lawrence's life."

"Who's first on the list?"

"His parents, his boss, his other coworkers, take your pick."

"I'm going to go with the parents. Fancy a trip to Staten Island, Detective?"

"It won't be necessary. Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence are staying at his apartment for a few days, until they take care of some of their son's affairs."

"People, how is it going? Do you have any new clues?" Gates asked.

"No sir, not yet. A couple of things seemed promising at first, but didn't pan out. The victims' financials were a bust, too. We were able to definitively establish that the cases are connected, though."

"Alas, the only connection we have so far is the killer," Castle added. "Right now, we're talking to people close to the victims, see if anything might have been missed. The original investigating officers did not know about the connection between the cases."

"Very well, Mr. Castle. Detective, what's your next step going to be?"

"Castle and I were heading out to talk to Ian Lawrence's parents. Then we'll pay a visit to Jordan Shaw at the FBI office and talk to her, like we discussed the other day."

"Keep me appraised, detective."

"Yes sir. In fact, I think it'd be better to go talk to Shaw first. What do you think, Castle?"

"It's fine by me. Hey, I could talk to Avery, too. See what new gadgets they have in their Fed-Mobiles. I finally decided to get a Writer-Mobile and I'd like to make it good."

"No matter what you're going to say, Castle, I'm not giving up my Crown Vic."

"I didn't ask you to give it up. But, considering how much time we've been spending in it, I know just the right thing to do."

"What?"

"Would you like to know?"

"Come on, Castle, tell me."

"All I can say right now is that I'll need to borrow your car."

"I can't release my unit to a civilian!"

"Is this the problem? Fine, I'll talk to Bob about it first."

"You're going to get the Mayor involved again? Gates is not going to like it."

"She won't have a problem with it, not if I talk about it with her first. I'll tell her exactly what I have in mind, and if she's not sure about it I'll tell her that we can get Bob to help out."

"It might work, if the responsibility for what may happen won't be hers. Just tell me what you want to do with my car. Other than reupholstering the seats, of course."

"How did you know?"

"You've been complaining about the loose spring in your seat for ages, Castle."

"Fine, it's one of the things on the list to be fixed."

"You made a list?"

"Oh, you'll be surprised to learn how extensive the list is. But I'd rather surprise you."

Beckett harrumphed in annoyance. "Let's go see Agent Shaw."

-o-

"You certainly have a very interesting case here," Jordan Shaw agreed. "What can I do to help?"

"Right now, we only need to know if this is confined to New York," Castle replied.

"If not, it becomes an FBI case, you know that, right?"

"If it becomes an FBI case, we'll be glad to help in any way we can," Beckett stated.

Shaw checked her computer. "I used a special program with both specific and general keywords. Nothing popped."

"That's good news, right? I mean, there are no more victims," Castle said.

"For now," Beckett cautioned.

"We'll catch him before he kills again, Kate. I have a good feeling about this."

"I have no doubt you will get your guy," Shaw said. "If anything, Mr. Castle's profile was quite accurate."

"We'd love to stay and chat a little more, but we have to talk to the relatives of our most recent victim," Castle said, getting up. "It was nice seeing you and Agent Avery again, Agent Shaw."

"Thank you for your help."

"It was my pleasure. Good luck."


	3. Chapter 3

So far I've been able to keep updating fairly quickly. Hope you enjoy this. Again, thanks for the constructive comments and all your support.

* * *

><p>"I don't know if we can add anything else, Detective," Matthew Lawrence said. His wife had remained mostly silent during the interview, holding his hand tight and occasionally nodding while trying to hold back tears.<p>

"Ian was never a troublemaker," she finally said. "He and his brother were model sons. Made our job as parents a whole lot easier."

"We mean…" Mr. Lawrence continued. "Come take a look at his room. You won't find dirty magazines, nor any porn on his computer."

They were about to decline the invitation, when Castle discreetly nudged her. They followed Ian Lawrence's parents to their son's room. It was tidy, the bed was made and there was not a speck of dust anywhere.

"Looks like Ian was an avid collector of European graphic novels," Castle remarked, seeing an extensive collection.

"He and his brother shared that hobby. He'd buy anything he deemed worthy."

"And apparently he liked French authors. I see several albums in their original language."

"He was fluent in French, yes. He even spent a semester abroad… in France."

Beckett was listening to the conversation while taking a good look around the room. She noticed something and frowned. Before anyone else could see, she had her game face back on. "He went to summer camp in Montauk?"

"Yes, he loved it. It was back when he was a junior in high school. You know the place?"

"I considered going there when I was in high school," Kate replied. "But I ended up choosing another camp."

They talked with Ian's parents for a while, trying to find out if he'd met anyone in high school who might have had hard feelings for him, but got negative answers. As they left, Beckett promised the grieving parents that whoever had killed their son would be brought to justice.

"You noticed something in there," Castle told her flatly, the moment they were out the building.

"How did you know?"

"Care to let me in on it?"

"Castle…"

"I noticed how your whole attitude changed. It usually does that when you have a good lead. I know you, Kate."

"Okay, I think we may have a good lead. Remember the summer camp?"

"The one in Montauk? What about it?"

"I saw the same framed commemorative certificate in a box of Simpson's stuff his girlfriend was packing to send to his sister."

"Did you see the year it was awarded?"

"No, just the camp logo."

"I think we have reason to be optimistic, but let's not count our chickens just yet."

"We'll be guardedly optimistic. We have the year Lawrence went to that camp, so we can check their website."

"If the three of them happened to be there the same year…"

"Odds are the killer was as well," she finished the sentence.

-o-

Captain Gates took a sip of her coffee and grimaced. It had gone cold and in any case she'd prefer the foamy richness of a nice double espresso. She was on her way to the break room when she noticed Beckett, Castle, Ryan and Esposito gathered around a computer. "Are you looking at porn?"

"We use Ryan's computer for that," Castle and Esposito replied instinctively and in unison.

"You what now? You know IA checks browser histories," the Irishman exclaimed, annoyed.

"Besides, I'm here," Beckett added. "We are checking up on a lead."

"You got a lead?"

"As it turned out, our victims' lives may have intersected when they were in high school."

"I thought you checked and found nothing."

"As it turns out, both Lawrence and Simpson went to the same summer sports camp in Montauk."

"So did Underwood. And they all went there the same year," Castle announced triumphantly. "You may have given us the breakthrough we needed, Detective Beckett." He turned the screen so that Gates could see the camp's website. "See this group photo here? All our victims are in it."

"Odds are the killer is in the same photo, too," Beckett added with a satisfied smile.

"Good job so far and keep me informed of your progress, people."

"Yes sir."

"It's a large pool of suspects," Esposito pointed out. "There must have been hundreds of people at the camp when our three victims went there."

"You're forgetting one thing, my good man. All three victims were from the same group," Castle reminded him. "Therefore, it stands to reason that the killer was in the same group as well."

"He's got a valid point," Beckett added.

"OK. So, where do we start?"

"We start by contacting the camp's administration and getting them to tell us the names of the girls closest to our three victims. Her, her and her," she tapped the screen. "These girls seem to have been close to Simpson, Underwood and Lawrence."

"You don't think one of them is the killer?"

"No, Ryan, we don't. The killer is definitely a man. But they can tell us the full story of that fateful summer." She turned to her intrepid partner. "Road trip?"

"I'll be right with you as soon as I go to the little boys' room. I can also give Gates the heads-up." She nodded and Castle went to the break room, where the Captain was still making her double espresso. "Captain Gates, may I have a word with you?"

"Yes, Mr. Castle?"

"Detective Beckett and I are going to talk to the camp's administrators and get the names of the victims' girlfriends at the time. Maybe they'll be able to help."

"Very well, carry on."

"There is one more thing I'd like to discuss with you."

"I'm listening."

"It's about Beckett's unit. I'd like to borrow it for a couple of days."

"I can't authorize the release of an issue vehicle to a civilian, Mr. Castle, especially not for recreational use."

"I didn't say anything about recreational use. I want to have it refurbished. Consider it a small donation to the precinct."

Gates pursed her lips and furrowed her brow in thought. "Let me think it over and I'll get back to you."

"Thank you Captain."

The moment Castle and Beckett were gone, Gates went over to where Ryan and Esposito were working. "Castle just asked me something and I want your opinion on it."

"We're listening, sir," Esposito said, leaning back in his seat.

"He wants Beckett's cruiser for a couple of days, to have it refurbished."

"Figures," Ryan said casually. "He's already made several donations to the Department."

"I know about the espresso machine."

"That's the cheapest thing he gave us. He has made several generous donations to the widows and orphans fund, bought our way into a fundraiser, which was the turning point on a case…"

"He even got Beckett a dress for the occasion," Ryan added.

"And he forked over one hundred thousand dollars of his own money to set up a fake hit and lure out a hitman. He also allowed the use of his Ferrari for an undercover operation…"

"Castle did all that?"

"What can I say? The man is a true friend of the NYPD."

"Thank you for helping me make up my mind, Detectives."

"You're welcome, sir."

Castle and Beckett came back an hour or so later. She fished her notepad out of a pocket and summarily told Esposito and Ryan to track down three women and call them to the precinct for interviews. Just then, Alexis Castle entered the bullpen.

"Hey Alexis, is everything OK?"

"Everything's just fine, Dad. I have some reports from Dr. Parish to give Detective Beckett."

"I think she went to the little girls' room, but I'll be happy to take these off your hands," he said and snatched the files.

"Someone will have to sign for them."

He just pointed in the direction of Esposito and Ryan, who, while waiting for something meaningful to do, were goofing off, Esposito teasing Ryan about a ball and chain called Jenny. While Alexis was getting one of them to sign for the files, he made tracks for the break room and made her a cup of hot chocolate. He brought it to his daughter just as Beckett returned to her desk.

"Ah, you're just in time, Detective. Alexis here brought us Lanie's latest findings. Care to give us the Castle version?"

"It's just Dr. Parish's final report on the injuries suffered by the victim."

"Did she have anything useful to add?" Kate asked, interested.

"We think so. The bruising on the victim's neck and back are consistent with having him been held down by the killer using his hands and a knee."

"Could the location of the bruising give a tentative description of the killer? You know, height, weight…"

"No, Detective. But I noticed something strange, which Dr. Parish investigated further. It was a couple of small abrasions on the back of the victim's head and neck, mostly hidden by his hair."

"Can you tell what made them?" Kate asked.

"The killer's watch!" Castle exclaimed.

"You stole my thunder there, Dad, but you are right. I had the same idea and Dr. Parish found traces of metal that seem to confirm it. The marks were made by the buckle or clasp on the killer's watch band as he pushed his victim's head down into the toilet bowl."

"This is good, hard evidence," Castle said, once again very proud of his daughter. If we find a suspect, we can have his watch tested for DNA from the victim."

"Even if the DNA evidence has been cleaned off, the lab could still match the metal," Alexis pointed out.

"Now all we need is a good suspect," Beckett added. She turned to Ryan and Esposito. "Keep at it. I want to talk to the victims' summer camp girlfriends as soon as possible. Alexis, thank you for coming over to give us the information."

"I was just doing my job," Little Castle said modestly.

"Lanie won't hold it against you if you finish your hot chocolate before heading back, you know," her father told her.

"I think I'll take it to the break room. You guys have work to do here."

"We should let Gates know we have more to go on now," Castle reminded the others.

"Do the honors," Beckett told him.

"Okie-dokie." He marched to Gates' office and knocked.

"Yes, Mr. Castle?"

"Captain, we just got the first solid evidence we can use to link the killer to the victims, or, more specifically, his third victim. And then it will be a simple matter to connect him to the other two. Dr. Parish's intern brought us the forensic reports."

Gates noticed that he'd referred to his daughter by her professional capacity and not her relation to him. "Very well, Mr. Castle. What's your next step?"

"We're in the process of locating and calling the victims' girlfriends from summer camp. They might give us a person of interest. Then we'll see if said person could be the killer."

"Let me know how it shakes out."

"Yes."

"By the way, when this case is over, you can take Beckett's issued car and have it refurbished. The Precinct gratefully accepts your donation offer. Just make sure it stays a cop car."

"Rest assured, Captain, if anything, it'll be a better cop car."

"With you involved, I reserve the right to be at least a little worried."

"Touché."

He found Beckett and the others working on a list of questions to ask their potential witnesses. He added his once-upon-a-time high school bad boy experience to Esposito and Ryan's which complemented Beckett's wild girl past well in coming up with the right things to ask.

-o-

The first two of the three witnesses they had to interview arrived almost at the same time. Castle and Beckett took Lawrence's then-girlfriend, while Esposito and Ryan took Underwood's to separate interrogation rooms. The two women answered all the questions and were then allowed to leave.

"Who did she give you?" Esposito asked.

"Some guy named John Burkhart." Beckett replied "What about yours?"

"John Burkhart," Ryan confirmed.

"I have the feeling interviewing our third witness will be a mere formality," Castle guessed.

Said witness, Donna Mosley, indeed confirmed what the other women had said. "Burkhart was creepy. I mean, he did make a pass at me, but he came on too strong. In the end I opted for Will."

"Did you notice the same pattern with Nicole and Becky?"

"He did have a thing for them and bothered Nicole, even though she had already hooked up with Clint. When she shot him down, he went for Becky, but by then she was with Ian. Not that he'd have a chance had he tried for Becky first. She'd have said no for pretty much the same reasons I did. Do you really think John Burkhart could have killed them?"

"He is a person of interest," Beckett hedged. "We are looking into people who had differences with the victims around the time they were in high school."

"Then it had to be John. Everyone else got along just fine with them."

"Did you keep in touch after camp?" Beckett asked.

"No, not really. We were from different places and we had fun together that summer, but no, we didn't keep in touch."

"How was Burkhart's behavior towards the other three?"

"He was antagonistic. He always preferred to enter the teams opposite Ian, Clint and Will and played rough on occasion. I remember one of the staff had to give him a warning. He also ignored Nicole, Becky and me. We thought he was a conceited ass. Fact is, he did have a very high opinion of himself. He thought he was better than most."

"Did he try to court other girls who eventually rejected him and turned to other guys?"

"Not from what I remember. But he did hit it off with the camp's resident nymphomaniac. She was a real slut, that one. She did help cool his jets, though."

"Thank you for coming to answer our questions, Mrs. Mosley."

"I wanted to help. And my husband agrees. He's a cop himself, you know. Please don't hesitate to call if you have any more questions."

"We will if we need anything else. Again, thank you for your cooperation."

"Well?" Gates demanded, seeing Donna leave.

"Finally, we have a suspect. All three witness statements put him in strong contention," Beckett replied. "Esposito and Ryan are already getting his background." She and Castle then went and stood by the murder boards. She also wrote Burkhart's name under the Suspect heading.

"Guys like Burkhart need constant confirmation of their perceived superiority over most of the others. When they don't get it, they feel cheated. I'll go out on a limb and guess he had a privileged upbringing. All in all, he took rejection and taking second place to someone else as a personal insult," Castle theorized.

Beckett was thinking the exact same thing.

"I'd agree, but why now? Why those victims?" Gates asked.

"Tell her," Beckett nudged Castle with an elbow.

"There is no simple answer. I'll try to give an answer by going back to my initial attempt at profiling, I'd say he decided the women were simply unworthy of his attention, so he let it slide, instead trying to prove his superiority over their boyfriends on the playing field. If his team lost, he'd most likely blame his team mates for it. But something happened to him recently. Some failure either on a professional or a personal level and quite likely both, that brought all those old feelings of resentment back to the surface. So, he redirected his wrath on the guys that bested him the first time, back during his high school years. He tracked them down and he made them pay."

"Very interesting theory, Mr. Castle," Gates nodded. "We'd still have to prove it though."

"Let's recap," Beckett smiled. "One, he knew all the victims; two, he met the victims for the first time when in high school; three, he had a history of intense rivalry with them. We'll be looking hard into his whereabouts over the last few weeks. We'll also get a warrant to test the watches of every suspect."

"But he's your only suspect."

"He doesn't need to know that," Beckett winked at her boss.

"You better hope the judge sees just cause to issue the warrant."

"If the background check on the suspect gives us more circumstantial but compelling evidence, I'm sure we can convince Judge Markway to sign it."

"Keep me informed."

"Yes sir."

"She always reminds us to keep her informed of everything, doesn't she, Beckett?"

"We've only got ourselves to blame, Castle. She won't be letting us forget the incident with the tiger anytime soon."

"No, she won't. However, it's late, I'm tired and you must be tired as well. Shall we call it a day? We did cover a lot of ground today." She grabbed her jacket and purse and began walking towards the elevator. "Besides, it'll be a while before we get all the information we need on our suspect."

-o-

Kate had just come in and saw Castle in his usual chair by her desk, typing something on his phone. He'd already brought coffee, too.

"Detective Beckett?" Officer Velasquez intercepted her.

"Yes, Velasquez?"

"A patrol unit found Underwood's car near the East Side docks. It will be towed and CSU will be all over it."

"Thanks." She moved to her desk and took a long sip of her coffee. "Let's go, Castle. They found Underwood's car near the East Side docks."

"What was it doing all the way over there? The killer must have dumped it."

"CSU will be combing it for evidence. What do you say, Castle? Should we go take a look?"

"It'll have to wait," Esposito called out. "I just got the information on our suspect. Castle was right. If he's the killer, then I know what triggered it."

"Come on, Espo, tell us."

"John Burkhart, 31, hedge fund manager, lives in downtown Manhattan. His wife recently divorced him citing adultery, cruelty and abuse. She almost took him to the cleaners. The guy's got money, but even for him the divorce was pretty expensive."

"I bet losing the court battle was a huge blow to his ego," Beckett guessed.

"You don't say. It got so bad that his ex even got a restraining order against him."

"Such a combination of events would be enough to bring to the surface suppressed feelings of resentment towards his very first romantic rivals and given his obvious narcissistic personality disorder it could definitely trigger a killing spree."

"Why, Detective, that was a very Castle-esque way of putting it," Castle said admiringly.

"Have uniforms bring him in later," Beckett said. "I want to see what we may find in Underwood's car first."

The CSU report wasn't long in coming. Castle was proved right on the shackle theory, as a tow shackle attached to a length of chain was found in the trunk. Further analysis showed traces of paint on the chain from the bleacher supports and DNA from the victim on the shackle. The killer had used his victim's car to go to the crime scene and set everything up.

Beckett looked up from the report. "If Burkhart's our killer, breaking his alibi will suffice for the Underwood and Lawrence murders. We weren't able to establish a very precise timeline for Simpson's kidnapping and death, but he's linked forensically to another victim. What do you say, boys? Are we ready to go get him?"

The three men looked at her and nodded. Kate picked up the phone and asked some uniforms to bring Burkhart in for questioning. The game was on.


	4. Chapter 4

And now we really get to the beginning of the juicy stuff. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Right this way, Mr. Burkhart," Beckett said, guiding their suspect towards an interrogation room. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."<p>

The man grunted noncommittally as he took a seat. He didn't even bat an eyelid as another man – Castle – entered and sat down across the table from him. Then Beckett also sat down. The two partners took a moment to get a good look at the suspect. With his expensive suit, watch and haircut, he was what one would expect of a wealthy hedge fund manager.

"Do you know why you are here, Mr. Burkhart?"

"The officer who told me that my presence was required here did not go into specifics. He just said my assistance was required on a case. And I must say, if I get to talk to detectives like you, I'd like my assistance to be required more often." He smiled what to him passed as a charm smile at Beckett.

Kate refused to be baited. Even Castle, who was fuming inside, presented an ice cold façade. "Do you remember Ian Lawrence?"

"Who?"

"Ian Lawrence. He is, or rather was, your age."

"So are hundreds of thousands of people in New York."

"What about Clint Underwood and Will Simpson, do their names ring a bell?" Castle asked.

"The first one sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't place it."

"You went to summer sports camp in Montauk with all three," Beckett said.

"Summer camp in Montauk?" Burkhart echoed. "That was fifteen years ago!"

"So, you don't remember them?"

"It was only three weeks and I didn't really keep in touch with people I met there. But if you say I met them, it might come to me. Do you have pictures of them, from back then?"

Beckett nodded at Castle and he pushed a photo printed off the camp's website towards Burkhart. "I've circled them for your convenience."

"He was a good football player," he said, tapping Lawrence's image.

"That one is Ian Lawrence."

"Are you saying he's dead? Who killed him? One of the other two? You don't think it was all some sort of pact between the three of them?"

"You tell me, Mr. Burkhart."

"I didn't socialize with them much, so I'm afraid I can't be of help."

"They are all dead, Mr. Burkhart."

"All three of them?"

"Yes. And guess what; the only connection we could find between them was the summer camp."

"Still, I can't see how I can help you. I mean, there were hundreds of people there."

"Yet, only one was a rival of all three, athletically and romantically," Kate moved into the offensive. "You, Mr. Burkhart."

"You can't be serious," he scoffed.

"Where were you on February 25th?"

"Almost a month ago? I'll have to check my calendar. But I can tell you I was busy. My firm was offering a new exciting investment opportunity and it was all hands on deck for several days in a row."

"What about four days ago?"

"Four days ago I was at the office, working late. And then I went home."

"Can anyone verify that?"

"Unfortunately, I got a divorce recently, so I am pretty much alone. You can ask the lobby staff at my office building and the doorman at my apartment building."

Castle was saying nothing, but he was carefully observing the suspect. The man was a sociopath. He had killed three men and was now acting like nothing had happened.

"We will. And where were you fifteen days ago?"

"Again, I'll have to check my calendar. Is that all? I don't want to be rude, but I have to go pack for a very important business trip."

"Of course. You've been very cooperative, Mr. Burkhart."

He rose to leave. As he did, Beckett nudged Castle with her knee. It was the signal to move into the second phase of the attack.

"Nice watch," Castle said casually. "Is it a Breitling?"

"No, it's a Tag Heuer Aquaracer. I've had it for a few years and it has never let me down. In fact, I like it so much I can't think of taking it off." He didn't realize he was giving Beckett and Castle an opening.

"Unfortunately, you'll have to take it off right now," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"We have a warrant to examine the watches of viable suspects in the case."

"You'd like to be eliminated as a suspect early, don't you?" Castle baited him.

"I'd be stupid not to. What are you looking for?"

"The killer's watch scratched the last victim. We are looking for DNA evidence on the watches."

Burkhart shrugged. "You can have it, but I'll need a receipt for it. It's a very expensive watch."

"You'll get one," Kate assured him. "Now, if you please, put it in this bag." The moment she had it in the evidence bag, she sat down and wrote a receipt. "Wait here, please."

"Won't you need a sample of my DNA, too? To avoid potential confusion, I mean."

"Your watch is covered in it. So, this is, well, covered."

"Fine by me," he shrugged.

"Smug bastard," Castle remarked as he and Beckett went to send the watch to Lanie.

"He probably went to lengths to clean the blood, skin and hairs off of it and probably used bleach or other chemicals. We won't find any DNA evidence on it, Castle."

"But he doesn't know that we can match the metal to the traces found on the victim."

"Hubris. That's his fatal flaw, Castle," she agreed.

-o-

"It's a definite match," Lanie announced. "The metal in the wounds is the same as the watch. He cleaned it very carefully, but didn't think to take the clasp apart in order to do a better job. I found some blood and skin in the pin holes and on the pins themselves."

"It seems we have both metallurgical and most likely DNA evidence matches. He's toast. Thank you Lanie," Beckett said.

"The blood is the same type as the victim. DNA results will take a while longer, but it should be a match. I also found residue from the chemicals he used to clean it."

"As it is, we have enough evidence for an arrest. Would you like to do the honors, my dear Detective Beckett?"

"Let's go."

Back at the precinct, they went straight to where Burkhart was waiting. "John Burkhart, you are under arrest for the murders of William Simpson, Clint Underwood and Ian Lawrence. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you can't afford one, one will be appointed to you," Beckett said without preamble.

"You weren't careful enough when you cleaned your watch. Plus, we matched it to trace evidence found on a body," Castle said.

She handed Burkhart over to a couple of officers to take him to booking. "I'll go tell Gates we got our man."

"I'll go make us some coffee."

Beckett knocked and entered Gates' office. "Sir, we got him."

Gates looked up and took her glasses off. "You did?"

"Yes sir. We got solid evidence, too."

"Did he confess?"

"It doesn't matter. We have enough to fry him with any reasonable jury. His best option is to cut a plea."

"Well done, Detective. Pass my congratulations to the others, Castle included. He was the one who gave us the breakthrough we needed."

"Speaking of the breakthrough, we promised Paul Whittaker an exclusive."

"Handle it any way you see fit, Detective."

"Yes sir." She left Gates' office, thinking about spending the remainder of the work day doing paperwork and goofing off with the boys. She was at her desk when Castle came back with her double espresso. She smiled her thanks and took a sip of the foamy richness.

He took his usual seat. "We still have a few hours to kill before we can head over to the Old Haunt, Kate. Any ideas as to what we can do?"

"I have paperwork to do. Would you like to help?"

"All I can offer you is my talent as a writer. Although, it's going to be a waste to use it for something as bland as paperwork."

"Can't you just say that you are too lazy to help?"

"Haven't I helped enough on this case?"

"That you have," she admitted a little grudgingly. "By the way, Gates gave the OK to talk to Paul."

"Fantastic. I'll call him as soon as I finish my coffee."

-o-

Paul Whittaker had been delighted to learn about the successful conclusion of the case. After all, he had helped in a small but vital way. After hanging up with him, Castle relaxed in his chair, turning his attention back to his partner. He found the way she chewed on her pencil while thinking about what to write next adorable. The picture of tranquility was shattered by her phone ringing.

"Beckett," she replied. "Oh, hi… yes, I can talk… uh-huh… WHAT?" The shouted question was so loud that everyone on the fourth floor jumped. "O-okay… I understand," she stammered.

Castle was worried. She'd just hung up and she was looking stunned. "Beckett… Kate, what's wrong? Tell me."

"Huh?"

He gripped her shoulders and looked right into her eyes. "Who was on the phone?"

It seemed to do the trick. "It was the super in my building."

"And?"

"The short version is that I'm homeless once more." She rubbed her eyes tiredly and rested her chin on her hand, staring into space.

"Don't go catatonic on me, Kate. What did he tell you?"

"A water pipe burst in the building. My living room, kitchen and bathroom were ruined."

"Come on, let's go see what we can salvage. Guys…"

"We'll take care of the paperwork and Gates. We got your back, Beckett," Esposito said.

"I'll go fill the Captain in," Ryan volunteered. "Maybe she'll give you a couple of days off to move to another apartment."

"I heard everything, Ryan," Gates said. "Beckett, take a few days off… as many as you'll need."

"Thank you Captain," Kate said, mechanically gathering her things.

Over her initial objections, Castle drove them to her place. Several apartments had suffered water damage. Hers was one of the worst hit. Her bedroom was still intact, which was a small consolation. By some miracle, her super-comfortable couch had survived, too.

"I'm sorry," her super said. "But I think your insurance and ours will cover the damages between them."

"How long before this place is habitable again?" Castle asked the obvious question, while she was still surveying the devastation in shock.

The super shook his head. "Hard to say… Some structural work may be necessary, so odds are it's going to take a while."

Kate resigned herself to the inevitable. "I guess I should start packing." As she moved about, picking various things up and carrying them to the bedroom, she noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that her books had survived intact.

"I'll call a truck service to take the undamaged furniture to storage," Castle offered. "I can help you pack, too."

"Thank you Castle."

He quickly called a truck company he knew and then, when he was sure she wasn't looking and listening, he made another call. He went into her bedroom and found her packing clothes, shoes and other things into suitcases, travel bags and boxes. He picked up a couple of boxes and started putting her books in. "Kate, where are you going to stay?"

"I guess I'll go to the same SRO I stayed in after Dunn blew up my previous apartment." It was one of the better SROs in the city, catering mostly to students and traveling workers. Castle had visited her there once or twice and knew that the place was clean, safe, comfortable and affordable. She had chosen it because it was close to the precinct, too. But he had an even better idea. For the moment, he said nothing, intending to surprise her.

"Let's get these to the car. And then, after the rest is taken away, I'm taking you out to lunch, OK?"

"You don't have to…"

"Kate, it's what partners do. They're there for each other, no matter what."

She gave him an appreciative smile. It wasn't the brightest smile she could give, which was understandable, considering the circumstances. "Would you like to drive again, Castle?"

"I'm willing to drive your car as often as I can get it. Besides, you did drive one of my cars once."

"Ah, yes, the Ferrari," she said longingly. She'd never told him, but she'd been almost ready to jump his bones that night.

"By the way," he said. "I got permission from Gates to have your car tweaked. When my man at the shop is done with it, the Beckett-Mobile will be as good as the Heat-Mobile."

"The Heat-Mobile?" Kate echoed. Nikki Heat's cop car was full of bells and whistles, the embodiment of what Castle's writer imagination perceived as the perfect cop car.

"Yes. A car worthy of the cop who inspired Nikki Heat," he replied.

She leaned back in her seat, closed her eyes and let out a breath. "At least make sure your guy fixes the loose spring in the seat. I know what you meant when you said it's kind of uncomfortable."

He stopped at a red light, turned and smiled at her. "The spring is first on the list."

A few minutes later, she noticed that they were going the wrong way. "Castle, the SRO is not this way."

"Who said we're going to the SRO?"

"Then where the hell are we…?" It suddenly dawned on her. "Castle?"

"Exactly," he confirmed.

"But why?"

"I get lonely," was his only explanation.

"Lonely… are you kidding me?"

"No, Kate, I'm serious. Alexis is out most of the day, either busy with her internships or looking at college campuses. And mother is busy with her studio and all…"

She seemed to accept his explanation and didn't bring up the subject any more. Soon, he pulled into his building's parking garage and stopped next to his Ferrari. Together, they carried her things to the elevator and on to the Castle loft.

"Darling," Martha gushed, giving Kate a big hug. "Richard told me everything. Don't worry, your room is ready."

"Wow, Martha, you shouldn't go into all that trouble on my account."

"Nonsense, dear, it was no trouble at all. Besides, Richard will need some adult supervision around here, when Alexis and I are not at home."

"I _am_ an adult, Mother, thank you very much," he objected.

Martha dismissed him with a wave of the hand and turned her attention back to Kate, steering the young woman towards the kitchen with an arm wrapped around her shoulders and talking a mile a minute. Castle merely shook his head and carried Kate's bags to the guest room. A few minutes later, while Kate was in the bathroom, the doorbell rang. It was the movers he had called to take whatever they'd saved of Beckett's furniture to storage. But he'd added one request, so one item was carried to the guest room and deposited there. She would get a nice surprise when she retired to the room.

One of the things Martha knew how to do really well was lay out a good spread. With the whole packing-moving-unpacking thing, Rick and Kate had skipped lunch, despite their original intention to get some. So, Martha took it upon herself to make dinner. And she had something devious in mind. Her son bringing Beckett as a houseguest had been a great idea, facilitating her plan to play matchmaker. She always maintained that her son should kiss Kate while they were both young. Furthermore, she had seen how much closer the two had gotten recently. Motorcycle Boy had been out of the picture for months and her son didn't seem interested in dating anyway. All they needed was a good push to send them over the edge and into a happy relationship – a happy and _intimate_ relationship.

Kate went upstairs to unpack some more and change from the sweats she'd been wearing for the move into something more comfortable for dinner. She came running down the stairs and into his office a mere minute later. "Castle!"

He looked up from his laptop, where he was working on a chapter of his newest Nikki Heat novel. "Yes, Kate?"

"You had my couch brought into the guest room?"

"What if I did? You are the one who's always boasting how super-comfy it is. I thought you'd appreciate having it here."

"As a matter of fact, I do. Thank you, Rick."

"You are welcome." His eyes took in her appearance, standing before him in a comfortable pair of jeans and an open necked shirt.

She sat on the edge of his desk. "What are you working on?"

"My latest book," he replied. "It's going to be good, even if I say so myself."

"What's it called?"

His smile widened. "It's called _Blistering Heat_."

She was used by now to the titles he tended to choose for his books, so she said nothing. A raised eyebrow was the extent of her reaction to the title. True, she'd raised holy hell about _Naked Heat_ and she'd probably (more like definitely) kill him in a slow, painful, horrible manner if he ever so much as hinted about writing a book titled _In Heat_. There was just too much innuendo in that title for her taste.

"Gina said the suggestions for the cover art should be arriving in the next few weeks." Cover art was another sore point with his beautiful muse. Nikki Heat's somewhat risqué poses, no matter what was used for modesty's sake tended to cause Kate some ribbing from fellow cops. In time, she'd come to accept it as part of the deal and she didn't mind so much any more. For her part, she'd never told him her Castle website subscription username: Castle_Reader_12, the number standing for the 12th precinct. She knew, however, that he suspected her of being CastleFreak1212, precisely due to the number.

Before she had a chance to say anything, her phone rang and she excused herself to answer it, going to the living room to talk without disturbing either Castle or Martha. "Hello."

"Girlfriend, I'm going to find you and then I'm going to smack you."

"Lanie?"

"Why do I have to learn from Javi about the incident at your place? At least Castle was there for you."

"I was going to call, but it got a little crazy and I just plain forgot."

"Whatever," Lanie said disinterestedly. "Where are you now?"

"Castle's loft. He didn't even give me the chance to check into the SRO."

A loud squeal caused Kate to wince and hold the phone away from her ear.

"Lanie, keep it down," she complained.

"Now maybe you'll come to your senses and get your freak on with Writer Boy."

"You'll never give up, will you?"

"Not as long as you can't see what's good for you, Katherine Beckett."

Kate saw Martha coming her way. "Lanie, I have to go. See you tomorrow."

"No, you won't. You'll get settled at Castle's place."

"But… Hello? Lanie? She hung up on me."

"Kate dear, dinner is ready."

"Thank you Martha. I'll go get Castle."

Alexis also joined them for dinner and she was pleased to learn that Kate would be staying with them. She knew how much the smart, savvy, beautiful detective meant to her father. She herself viewed Beckett as a friend, a role model. Also, having her around to keep the irrepressible Richard Castle in check was another plus in Alexis' book.

They had finished stacking the dishes in the dishwasher when their phones beeped almost simultaneously. "It's Ryan," Kate announced, simultaneously with Castle's "It's Esposito". The two detectives were asking if the earlier arrangements for drinks at the Old Haunt were still on. They had just finished their shift and were about to leave the precinct.

"What do you say, Kate? I think a couple of drinks will do you good."

"Grab your coat and let's go, Castle," she replied.

"Maybe I should open a bottle of St. Miriam."

"How many of those do you have, anyway?"

"Enough," was Castle's cryptic reply. "Alexis, Beckett and I are going out for drinks with the guys. Don't wait up."

"Have a good time," Alexis called out.

"Thanks," they replied in unison.


	5. Chapter 5

Leaving Kate Beckett alone in the loft is not exactly the best idea… Here is why. Enjoy!

Also, did I mention that no betas are being harmed for this fic? No? Well, all mistakes you may find are mine and mine only.

Nat, you wondered why I wasn't more descriptive about the damage to Kate's apartment in the previous chapter. The answer is that I chose to put it here.

* * *

><p>Someone once described Kate Beckett as having a 'bedroom voice'. Now, if one were to ask her to define what she considered to be her bedroom voice, she'd reply that it was the one she used whenever she got a call in the wee hours of the morning, consisting of equal parts sleepiness, annoyance and resignation. Of course, this time it was not so early, but it was a Saturday and she wanted to sleep a little longer, especially since she had the entire weekend off and she had also gone to bed late after consuming about a quarter of a bottle of St. Miriam with the Boys at the Old Haunt.<p>

"Beckett," she answered her annoyingly ringing phone.

"Ms. Beckett, I'm Todd Holt from your insurance company."

"Yes, what can I do for you, Mr. Holt?"

"I just finished the survey of your apartment. What furniture and other things you left there are all ruined by the water, but you'll receive full compensation."

"I see, thank you."

"There is more. Your super was right in saying repairs are going to take a while. Therefore, you'll be compensated for moving expenses, as well as not have to pay rent for however long you'll be out of your apartment. Naturally, considering the circumstances, you won't incur any penalties should you decide to end your lease."

"Okay," she said, forcing her still half awake brain to function.

"I also took the liberty of sending you photos of the condition of your apartment by email. They may be useful in helping you reach a decision."

"I'll go over them as soon as possible and get back to you, Mr. Holt."

"Take your time, Ms. Beckett. Have a nice weekend."

"You too." The connection was terminated. Kate set the phone down on the nightstand and turned on her side, pulling the comforter over her again. She would snooze a little longer and then get up to make breakfast for everyone. The last time she had done that, she and Castle hadn't had the chance to enjoy it, as they had been called to help find and rescue Jordan Shaw. Her final thought before falling back asleep was that Castle definitely knew what to buy when shopping for mattresses, pillows and bedclothes. All the more reason to love him. Kate didn't feel surprised for thinking that way. She did love Richard Castle and she knew he loved her. She would have to tell him some day, but she was waiting for the right time.

When she finally got up, it was ten in the morning. A quick shower in the en suite bathroom later and she was down in the kitchen, in an oversized red t-shirt and black yoga pants, hair pulled in a messy bun, making a generous breakfast. And this time they'd better be allowed to enjoy it, otherwise someone would be liable to get shot.

She was pouring some coffee into a Nikki Heat mug when Castle came down. Apparently, the Castle family liked to sleep late on weekends. "You know I was cheated the last time you made breakfast in this kitchen, right?" He reached for a piece of crisp bacon and she slapped his hand away with her spatula. He pouted childishly at her. "Can I at least have some coffee?"

She wordlessly passed him a mug. "A guy from the insurance company called. The damage to my place was worse than we thought."

"You don't have to worry about that now."

"He sent me an email with photos they took for the assessment. I was going to look at them, but I can't find my laptop."

He paused and thought for a second. "You may have left it in the office."

"I'll go check after we eat. Would you like some orange juice? I squeezed some extra pulp, just for you. Figured you could use it in your fiction."

"Ha-ha, very funny, Kate."

Martha came down the stairs studying a script for a play. "What is this most heavenly smell?"

"Kate made breakfast, Mother," Castle replied.

"I've had the pleasure of sampling her cooking once before. But you didn't have to, dear."

"I'm going to be living with you for the next few days," Kate said. "I don't want to impose and I'll do my fair share of the housekeeping."

"Ah, but you forget one thing, Kate," Castle smiled.

"Care to explain, Ricky?"

"I practically kidnapped you and brought you here."

"Yes, I know, because you don't want to be alone. Right now, take your pick. What do you want for breakfast?"

"I'll take a bit of everything," he replied, the sight of all the food Kate had made making him drool in anticipation.

"Good morning everyone," Alexis said cheerfully as she bounded down the stairs.

"Good morning Alexis," Kate greeted her with a smile. "You're right on time. Grab a seat"

"Thanks. Dad, some friends called and they want to go shopping. I'll take the Vespa."

"I thought you didn't want to buy Alexis a Vespa, Castle."

"I didn't. I bought it for me. She just borrows it from time to time." He turned to Alexis. "Just promise me you'll be careful, OK?"

"Dad, I'm always careful."

"Face it, Castle, Alexis acts more grown up than you, a lot of the time," Kate pointed out.

After breakfast, and everyone had praised Kate's cooking skills, the Castle family dispersed. Martha went to meet with a producer, while Alexis left to go shopping with her friends. And then Castle decided to go out for a while, since he had things to do.

"I won't be long," he promised Kate. "But I've been putting this off for a while and now's the time, especially since we have no case to work on."

"No problem, Castle, go. And don't worry about me. I'll just check the email from the insurance company."

"Remember, your laptop is probably in the office."

"I haven't forgotten."

"Just checking. Say, would you like me to get you anything?"

"No, I'm good, thanks. In any case, I can't think of anything right now."

"Suit yourself. I'll go change." He stopped in his tracks. "But first, we have to do something we totally forgot."

"Huh? What?"

"Put away the dishes, of course," he said and moved to the breakfast bar, picking up dishes and stacking them in the dishwasher.

She followed suit. "It's been a long time since I last cooked anything. In fact, I don't think I've cooked more than ten times since I last made you breakfast."

"You don't say! I bet the Styrofoam temple on top of your fridge has grown to enormous proportions. Wait, what did you eat when you stayed at your dad's cabin?"

"There was a restaurant nearby offering nice home cooked meals. Saved me the trouble."

"Well, if it worked for you," he shrugged.

"It did work. It worked very well, as a matter of fact."

"Like I implied, I'm not one to judge. Besides, I have evidence that you are more than an adequate cook," he complimented her. _I bet you'll make your one and done happy, too,_ he thought. _I only hope this guy will be me._ He didn't say anything else. Changing quickly in his room, he left to take care of whatever he was planning to do. Beckett's car was already at the shop, so he decided to drop by and check on the mechanic's progress. Then he would have to buy groceries, enough to feed four people for a couple of days, and go to his favorite bookstore and see if anything caught his fancy.

Kate finished her second cup of coffee and decided that it was finally time to check her emails. Thus, she found herself alone in Castle's office… She opened her laptop, waited for it to boot up and then logged in to read her new mails. She found the one from the insurance company immediately. In fact, it was the only new one in her inbox. Like Mr. Holt had said, it was mostly pictures of her apartment in the aftermath of the broken pipe.

What she saw made her gasp. When she and Castle had gone there, the power had been cut off due to the risks of short circuits and the like, so there had been very little light to see by. But under the harsh glare of the portable spotlights and the camera's flash, the full extent of the water damage became obvious. Huge stains, with mold already making its appearance, were all over the ceilings and the walls of the living room, the kitchen and the bathroom. Most of her rugs were completely sodden and one or two were beyond saving. All the circuit breakers in the fuse box had popped, and there was even soot above one of the aforementioned breakers. Her bathroom was also a mess. The parts of the walls not covered in tiles and the ceiling showed extensive water damage. The wooden door frames and at least two window frames were swollen and would soon begin to rot. And all that without even taking the possibility of structural damage into consideration… Like it or not, she was going to be stuck being Castle's houseguest for a while.

She refocused her attention to the office. She'd been there many times, but for the first time the significance of the room struck home. It was the place where most of his best sellers had been created; the room where the Nikki Heat saga had begun to take shape. Kate sat in his chair, swiveling left and right in fangirly delight. Her gaze fell to the cabinets under the bookshelves to one side. She debated on whether she wanted to see what was inside or not. Part of her wanted to respect his privacy, but he'd been poking into her life for years. He'd even claimed that novelists had the habit of going through people's mail and checking their medicine cabinets. Well, he might be a writer, but she was a cop. It was her job to be nosy. Besides, he had it coming.

She opened the first cabinet. It contained some leather bound notebooks. Kate picked one up and leafed through it. It was the original manuscript for his first book, _In a Hail of Bullets_. She chuckled as she thought about how much it would fetch in an auction. In fact, all the handwritten manuscripts for his earlier works were there. _A Rose for Everafter, Flowers for Your Grave, Hell Hath No Fury, Death of a Prom Queen_ and more. The second cabinet held a few boxes filled with stacks of typewritten sheets of paper. All the Derrick Storm novels were there, plus some unrelated ones.

The third merely contained office supplies, mostly packs of A4 paper sheets and toner cartridges for the printer, plus some CDs, DVDs and the usual paraphernalia one would reasonably expect to find in an office. Kate hit the jackpot in the fourth cabinet. It contained a lock box. Said box was labeled 'Nikki Heat'. Strange, because the plain cardboard boxes with the Nikki Heat manuscripts were on the top shelf of the cabinet, in chronological order. This piqued her curiosity.

"Let's see what we've got here," she mused. The box was locked, so the first thing she did was look around for the key. She found it in the bottom of a desk drawer. Castle should really learn to hide these things better. He didn't even make it challenging for her by forcing her to pick the lock with a bobby pin or a paperclip. She inserted it in the lock and it opened with no effort at all.

Kate picked up the first item from the top of the pile. It was a small photo album. The first pictures were some of her in the precinct: doing paperwork at her desk, making coffee in the break room, a couple of her interrogating suspects, taken through the two way mirror, plus some of her in her bulletproof vest. There was even a copy of the picture Mike Royce had shown them. All these were labeled Nikki At Work. The next section was titled Nikki's Life. There she was, in glorious color, straddling her 1994 Harley Softail, clad in tight black leather. She also found photos from various events she had attended with Castle, like the M.A.D.T. fundraiser, the Heat Wave launch party, Kyra's wedding, even a hastily taken picture of her in the swimsuit she'd worn in LA… and photos from her all too brief modeling career back in high school.

"I'm going to kill him!" Kate exclaimed angrily. "But first, I'll kill Esposito and Ryan! Those rats squealed on me!"

Her anger increased exponentially when she saw a couple of carefully wrapped paintings. She instinctively knew exactly what they were. But, being the methodical cop she was, she first opened the last item in the lock box. It was a small notebook, filled with ideas for the Nikki Heat books and cop quotes. She was about to put it back when something in one of the first pages caught her eye. It was the idea that led to the Nikki Heat series. "Tough, savvy, lady detective," Kate read aloud. "I guess I should be flattered." But then she came to the page where Castle had written potential names for his new character. "Nikki Castlebeck, Nikki Caskett," she read. "He combined his name with mine for these. And Nikki Heat! Dammit, either one of the others would be better than the stripper name he gave me – the character he's basing on me."

She got up and began pacing around the office, fuming. Apparently, Castle had been digging into her life behind her back. The irony was that she had given him some ammunition herself by occasionally shooting her mouth off. Had she remained silent, a lot of her life's aspects would have remained unknown to the writer. Twice she reached for the paintings and twice she pulled her hand back. She was still standing there undecided when she heard the sound of a key in the lock.

Poor Rick didn't know the fury he had unleashed as he entered the loft whistling softly to himself. He was about to put the groceries away when…

"RICHARD CASTLE!" Kate screamed as she stomped from the office over to him and grabbed him by the nose.

"APPLES! APPLES! APPLES!" Castle tried to use his safe word.

She dragged him to the office and unceremoniously shoved him into the chair. "What is all this, Castle?"

"You went through my cabinets?" He checked his still hurting nose for damage.

"Can it, Castle. You are not going to turn this around. I repeat the question: What's all this?"

"It's stuff about Nikki Heat."

"Nikki Heat…" she said disbelievingly. "This is my life, Castle! Mine, Kate Beckett's not Nikki Heat's."

"You are the inspiration for Nikki Heat," he offered lamely.

"Let's talk about Nikki Heat. Remember what I told you when I found out about the character's name? That it was a stripper name? Hell, Castlebeck would have been an infinitely better choice… even Caskett, despite it's obvious similarity to a box people are buried in, would do, but no, you had to go and name the character Nikki Heat! And you had the gall to refuse changing it, citing artistic integrity!"

"I had already settled on Nikki Heat for the name back then, so yes, my artistic integrity wouldn't allow me to change it."

"Hrmph. Anyway, I also found this!" She thrust the photo album to him. "I warned Ryan and Esposito about the consequences of telling you. Well, I'll just kill them and then arrest myself for a double homicide."

"Esposito and Ryan told me nothing."

"Really? And how did these pictures end up in your possession?"

"Jim told me."

"My Dad told you?"

"Yeah, I ran into him one day and he asked me what I thought of your modeling career. He seemed surprised to learn that Esposito and Ryan hadn't told me anything about it, but we figured that you must have threatened them into silence. He also gave me the pictures of you and your bike."

It made sense and also explained how Castle had gotten his hands on photos of her beloved Harley. "I believe you," she finally said. "But my Dad is going to get an earful about sharing facts of my life with nosy writers."

"You have to admit it, so far I have managed to peel quite a few layers off of the Beckett Onion."

"Which brings us to the next subject. I alone am to blame, as I should have watched my mouth around you." She pointed to the paintings. "Are those what I think they are?"

"If you think they are paintings of you from the time you posed for an art class wearing not a stitch, then yes, they are what you think they are."

"How…?"

"I did some investigating of my own the last time I was in LA. I knew you went to Stanford, so I looked into art classes and was lucky to find a couple of the students from that particular class. Buying the paintings was an easy matter."

"Exactly why did you buy them?"

"Research," he replied. "I was considering either using it as part of Nikki Heat's background, or having her ending up posing as a model while undercover."

She shook her head. "What am I going to do with you, Ricky?" Then it came to her. "Perhaps I should give Lady Irena a call, tell her you've been a very naughty boy and make a reservation for an extended punishment session."

"APPLES!"

"You are such a baby, Castle."

"Forgive me for not wanting to be worked over by a bunch of sadistic chicks."

"Where is my gun?"

"Exactly where you put it, in the safe, right next to mine. Why, what do you want it for?"

"I wanna shoot you in the ass, Castle. Wait, what do you mean next to yours? You have a gun?"

"It's a family heirloom," he said. He moved to the safe, opened it and extracted a sturdy case. From it he took a Colt M1911A1 US Army standard issue .45 caliber automatic, serial number 914906. Locking the slide in the open position, he visually checked the chamber, verifying it was empty before handing it to her. "It belonged to Charles Rodgers, my grandfather. He carried it all the way from Normandy to the Elbe as a tank commander during the Second World War."

Kate examined it with an experienced eye. It was a well worn piece, but it had been lovingly maintained over the years. The bluing had worn off here and there, but it functioned as new. "Classic," she commented.

"Maybe one day I'll manage to get a concealed carry license."

"Not a snowball's chance in hell, Castle."

"Detective Beckett, I'm offended. As I recall, I saved your life twice with my ability to handle firearms."

"Gates won't like it. She won't like it at all."

"I beg to differ. After all, I've managed to get her to accept me as part of the team."

"There is a big difference between accepting your participation in murder investigations and agreeing to you carrying a gun, Castle."

"Still, I think it's worth a try. Don't worry, I will be very diplomatic about it."

"All this talk about your gun made me forget what I wanted to do, which is punish you for snooping in my life." She poked him sharply in the chest with a finger.

"I could get you a pony and then we can call it even," he said, rubbing the spot.

"I'm not a little girl, Castle."

"Well, it was worth the try. But I know the perfect way to get back into your good graces, Kate."

She shot him a death glare with a side of disbelief.

"Don't look so disbelieving. I was planning to tell you about it anyway, but now is as good a time as any."

She took a deep breath. "I'm listening."

"The Yankees game," he said. "I was planning on taking Esposito with Lanie, Ryan with Jenny, you with your Dad and possibly Captain Gates, too. We could watch the game from my private box and, who knows, maybe we could run into Joe Torre…"

Kate was immediately interested. Watching a baseball game with her Dad and Joe Freakin' Torre? Castle was right. It would be adequate compensation.

"Just don't shoot me. Or poke me again," she heard him say.

"Poke you? Shoot you? No, right now I want to kiss you!" Her wrath was now gone and forgotten.

"Really?"

"This is Joe Freakin' Torre we're talking about," she gushed, giddy as a schoolgirl. "My Dad is going to be so excited!"

"Would you like to celebrate? Mother and Alexis won't be home for several more hours."

"Celebrate?"

"I was thinking about something along the lines of relaxing on the couch with a good movie, maybe order in…"

"But we had breakfast not three hours ago."

"Good point. Well, let's put all that stuff away and then we can try and come up with something nice to do."

"I should be looking for a new apartment."

"Why, don't you like it here?"

"That's not the issue. I like it here very much and you know it. But I can't stay here forever. At least not without pulling my weight around the house."

"Kate, do you know how much money I've made thanks to you? The least I can do for you is put a roof over your head."

-o-

Martha met Alexis at the lobby. Together, they went upstairs to the loft. The only light was coming from the humungous TV set in the living room. Curious, the two women investigated and found Castle and Beckett asleep on the couch, her leaning into him, both with smiles on their faces.

Castle's mother and daughter exchanged meaningful looks. They knew what they had to do. Alexis brought a blanket and covered the sleeping non-couple couple. They were glad to see them like this, as they were obviously witnessing another step on Rick and Kate's road to happiness.


	6. Chapter 6

Let's wrap this up before tonight's episode airs, shall we?

* * *

><p>Kate had been living with the Castles for over a week now. Frankly, she hadn't intended it to drag on that long, but they had all gone out of their way to make her feel welcome, not to mention the workload at the precinct. She had used her time off to salvage whatever she could from the apartment and then ended the lease. She was supposed to look for a new place, but it had been all work from the moment she set foot on the 12th's fourth floor.<p>

"Look at them," Ryan whispered to Esposito. "They are living under the same roof and they're still acting normal. You know what I mean by normal, right?"

"I know what you mean, bro," Esposito agreed. It looked like nothing had changed between Castle and Beckett. Right now, they were at her desk, finishing the paperwork from the last case. Or rather she was finishing the paperwork, while he was reviewing the case from a writer's perspective.

"I'm done here," Kate announced finally.

"Huh. I thought you were going to keep writing until morning."

"Paperwork would be done a lot faster if you decided to help."

"You know it's one of the reasons I'm glad I'm not actually a cop, right?" Castle teased.

This earned him a standard Beckett glare, but nothing more. "I'm too hungry to argue."

"I can cook for you. Let's go get Alexis from the morgue and go home." His cell phone beeped with a text message. "Oh."

"What?"

"Apparently, JDF3 will be picking up Alexis from work." Noticing her questioning look, he elaborated further. "JDF3 are the initials of John Danton Farnsworth the Third, aka JD, her new boyfriend."

"Neither she nor you ever said anything about a new boyfriend."

"He's the grandson of the owner of JDF's on Madison."

"JDF's, huh? They have nice clothes."

"I know. Both Alexis and my Mother are regular customers there now. Alexis nailed the grandson and Mother the grandpa. Go figure."

"I went there once, with Lanie. Mr. Farnsworth is an old school gentleman. I can understand why Martha likes him. Anyway, we can see if we can catch the comfort food truck. I'm a little tired and you must be tired as well. What do you say? It'll save you the trouble of cooking."

"The comfort food truck sounds like a winner," Castle agreed.

"So it's settled." She turned to Ryan and Esposito. "Guys, we're done, so we're outta here."

"Have a good time," Esposito said meaningfully.

Beckett rolled her eyes at him, but said nothing. Instead, she allowed Castle to hold her coat for her and together they made their way to the elevator and then to her car. She had to admit that the upgraded Beckett-Mobile was way better than it used to be. Castle had gone all out on the extras. In addition to a completely reupholstered interior, the engine had been fine-tuned, the old bubble gum police light had been replaced by strobes and the spotlights on the windshield posts were now demountable powerful halogen ones. In addition, he'd had it fitted with a touch screen navigation system, a multipoint Bluetooth system and a top of the line computer on a swing arm mount.

-o-

Castle swallowed the last bite of his macaroni and cheese and smacked his lips in appreciation. "Delicious," he commented.

"I second that," she agreed and went to get the cookies and hot chocolate they had gotten from the comfort food truck.

"Hey, are you in the mood for some laser tag later?" Castle suggested suddenly.

She looked at him disbelievingly and then threw her head back and laughed.

"What?"

"Some other time, Castle."

"Too tired to channel your inner teenager?"

"Something like that."

"OK. Let's see if there is anything worthwhile on TV."

"Temptation Lane will be on soon."

"Temptation Lane it is," he said agreeably. "By the way, you didn't tell me, how did you like Brennan's new book?"

"I haven't finished it yet, but it's awesome. It has excellent detail on the forensics, character interaction is great, the plot is gripping and the…"

"And the sex scenes are steamy," he finished the sentence for her.

"I was coming to that. But yes, you're right. They are steamy. Oh, the show's starting. Shut up and let me enjoy it. And not a word about me being a shipper, understand?"

He merely nodded.

While watching the latest episode of the long-running soap opera, Kate had to struggle to keep from cuddling with him. She wanted to – desperately. But it didn't feel right to her. She had to tell him what she felt about him first. The man had told her he loved her, for crying out loud. And he had been very patient with her, stood by her whenever she'd needed him and he had been nothing but supportive without ever being asked.

"Okay, what is it that you want to tell me?" Castle asked, turning the TV off when the episode ended and placing the remote on the coffee table.

"What makes you think I have something to tell you?"

"Come on, Kate, I'm not blind. I noticed the looks you've been giving me for the past half hour. Something is wrong, I can tell."

"I… um… I mean," she stammered, suddenly unsure of how to broach the subject.

"Hey, I don't want to push you. If you don't want to tell me now, I'm OK with it."

"Rick, I know you don't want to push me. But I've been trying to find a way to… to tell you what I need to tell you for quite a while now."

"Are you scared?"

"Yes, I am. I'm scared of the way you may react to whatever you'll hear."

He took her hands in hers. "We've been partners for almost four years now, Kate. We are friends. You can tell me anything."

She could see the sincerity in his blue eyes. "You may hate me for it, but it's time I told you the truth."

"I won't…"

"I lied to you, Rick," she interrupted him. "I lied."

"About what?"

"I remember everything," she stated simply.

"And by everything you mean… the shooting?"

"I remember every second of it."

The confirmation left him conflicted. On one hand, he was elated that she knew how he felt about her. But on the other he couldn't help feeling a bit of anger. He decided to give her the chance to explain, however. She deserved that much. So, he only uttered a single word: "Why?"

"It was best for both of us, at least I believed so at the time. Rick, I was broken, bad. I needed time to heal and not only physically."

He nodded, remembering what she had gone through with the sniper case. He was beginning to understand, but he wanted to hear it from her.

"The only person who knew about it was Dr. Burke. I told no one else, not Lanie, not my Dad, not Esposito and Ryan." She paused and swallowed hard to regain her composure. She couldn't afford to break down right now. "Had I told you, the only thing I'd accomplish would have been to drag you down with me and I just couldn't do that to you. Remember when I told you about how I couldn't be the person I always wanted to be, or have the kind of relationship I wanted because of what had happened in my life? Well, it was true. I had to get my pieces back together, to get back on my own two feet. After the Lee Travis case I had a long talk with Dr. Burke. He helped me see what I'd gotten wrong. He helped me understand that I could commit myself to a relationship with a good chance of success. I was ready and I only had to find a way to tell you." Now the tears were flowing freely from her eyes.

He cupped her cheeks in his hands and wiped the tears off with the pads of his thumbs. "You were wrong, you know. You couldn't have dragged me down, no matter how hard you might have tried. Not tried deliberately of course, but you get the gist, I think."

"Still, you would have felt bad seeing me the way I was back then… Going to my Dad's cabin was a way to shield you from it all. I know you would have tried to put up a brave front for me, for my benefit, but… but I loved you too much to let you go through it all. I needed to become the Kate you knew, to become me again, before we could move forward together."

"Uh, excuse me, what?"

"I love you, Richard Castle. I have been in love with you for quite a while now. Sure, we've both made mistakes and a lot of them, but…"

"Meredith, Ellie Monroe, Gina," he agreed. "Not my finest moments."

"Sorenson, well him not so much, but Demming… Josh," she recounted her own not so smart choices. "Josh might have been my biggest mistake. I also have another confession to make."

"I'm listening."

"Before you announced that you were going to the Hamptons with Gina, I was about to tell you yes."

"Yes?"

"I was going to accept your invitation. Demming and I had had a talk and realized that our relationship was going nowhere. But I was too late."

"During the time there Gina was pushing me to finish the book like a slave driver. The other thing only happened very late in the summer."

"We fucked up big time, Rick."

"You don't say. I can safely say I lost count of the mistakes we both made. We held though and that's what matters."

"We held," she agreed. "And thank you."

"You are welcome, but what are you thanking me for?"

"For being so understanding, Rick. For not yelling, for not kicking me out… I know I hurt you, but I was also hurting."

"The cat is out of the bag now, Kate. I can honestly say I'm glad. Plus, you just told me, twice I might add, that you love me, too. How can I be mad at you?" He didn't tell her, he couldn't tell her, but he also felt guilty for keeping secrets from her, specifically what he knew from talking to the mysterious Mr. Smith. And it was a secret part of him wanted to continue to keep, even though another part of him wanted to tell her everything and then talk her out of doing something really stupid, something suicidally stupid. He couldn't exactly blame her for withholding the truth when he'd been doing the exact same thing, for pretty much the same reason: to protect the person he loved.

"Still, I'm surprised at how lightly I got off."

"Your troubles are just beginning, Detective Beckett," he said slyly. Then he kissed her. First his lips made contact with her cheeks below her eyes, kissing away some fresh tears, tears of joy this time, and then on the lips. Gentle, chaste kisses, but they communicated everything he felt about her.

They pulled apart momentarily, and then hugged tightly, laughing with relief. Everything was going to be okay.

"You don't know how good it feels to not have to keep this bottled up in me any more," she said. "It's like a huge weight has been taken off of my shoulders."

The statement struck a chord. She had bared her soul to him, so he couldn't keep lying to her, even by omission. "I also have something to tell you. And, like you were afraid of what my reaction to your confession could have been, I'm afraid of what you might think."

"You can tell me anything, Rick."

He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. "A few months ago, right around the time you came back, I got a call from someone. It was from a friend of Montgomery's. Just before going to face Lockwood, Roy sent his insurance policy to his friend. Said friend is highly placed and he could secure the safety of Montgomery's family… and yours. The package didn't reach him before you were shot. Montgomery must have had enough to expose whoever was behind your mother's murder or at least come very close, Kate. But there was a catch. You had to back off, otherwise the deal was off."

"That's why you steered me away from my mother's case when we started working together again."

"I only did it to protect you, Kate. I don't know what I would have done if I lost you. I don't want to lose you, not then, not now, not ever."

"So, I lied to protect you and you kept a big secret to protect me."

"That pretty much sums it up."

"Talk about a dysfunctional relationship," she laughed and then got serious. "If you were the only thing keeping me from digging deeper, then the whole deal with the mayor…"

"Was an elaborate scheme to remove my friend from office so that Gates would have no obstacle in kicking me out," he confirmed. "With me out of the way, there would be nothing to stop you from going back to investigating your mother's case, and the deal would be off. You'd be a target again, Kate."

"Whoever is behind this must be running scared, scared of what I… we might uncover. He wanted to tie up all loose ends."

"Apparently, we are his worst nightmare."

"We'll get him," she said resolutely. "It won't be today, it won't be tomorrow, but some day, when he'll have become complacent again, he'll make a mistake or we'll get a breakthrough. And then his ass will be ours. He'll pay for all the lives he's ruined."

"So, you're not mad at me?"

"Get serious, Ricky. How can I be mad at you? I love you."

"I love you too, Kate."

They were too busy kissing to notice the door opening. Martha and Alexis were finally home after their dinner and dancing date with JDF Sr. and JDF the Third, aka JD. Rick and Kate had just pulled back for air when they saw the others. Alexis had her hands clamped over her mouth to keep from squealing in joy, while Martha was looking on with a smug smile.

"Alexis… Martha," Kate stammered, blushing a deep red in embarrassment.

"Don't mind us, darling. If anything, it was about damn time."

"What Gram said," Alexis agreed. "Just try to keep it PG while we're down here."

"Promise," Castle said, looping an arm around Kate's waist and pulling her close, causing her to lose her balance and fall on top of him.

"Rick," she protested halfheartedly.

"Come on, Alexis," Martha commanded. "Those two need some more alone time."

"I wouldn't like to inconvenience you…"

"Nonsense, Kate. Have a good time." She took her granddaughter's hand and led her upstairs.

"You know they'll be expecting us to get freaky when we get over the shock of being discovered like this, right?" Castle told Kate.

"It wouldn't surprise me."

"We should do something to baffle them. I don't know about you, Kate, but I'm in a very puckish mood tonight."

"Same here," she admitted. "Hey, let's break out the laser tag gear. We can surprise them and have fun at the same time."

"Devious," he smiled. "I like it."

One can imagine the surprise Martha and Alexis got. They had been expecting to hear some serious smooching and maybe something more, but for their lives they never expected to hear beeps and laser blasts. In the end they went to bed, having agreed that Rick and Kate got them good. As for the new couple, they decided to begin their new relationship by sleeping together in his bed. Just sleeping, mind you, but this time they agreed to keep handcuffs out of the equation.

Her ringing phone woke them up early in the morning. "Beckett," she answered it, instinctively cuddling closer to Castle. "Yes, I got it. See you there, Espo."

"What did he want?" Castle asked sleepily.

"There's been a murder. Let's go."

"Do we have time to wait for coffee to be ready?"

"We'll get some on the way. Now get up and get dressed."

"OK. But first…" He pulled her in for a toe curling kiss. "Now we can start the day."

"Hell yeah," she agreed.

"I wonder… Is this going to be a freaky case, or just a vanilla one?"

-o-

Months later…

The elevator doors at the fourth floor opened. All detectives and uniformed officers immediately stopped doing whatever they were doing at the moment, as they realized who had just arrived. And then they broke out into a spontaneous round of applause as a handcuffed man was pushed out of the elevator by the arresting officers. Or rather by the arresting officer and her civilian partner. Kate Beckett, head held high, wearing the impossible combination of her high heeled boots, her bulletproof vest with the POLICE logo and her weapon holstered at her side, and Richard Castle, in his WRITER emblazoned vest, also carrying a gun – his grandfather's, having finally managed to get a concealed carry license – steered the suspect towards booking, where other officers would process him. It was over. The man behind Johanna Beckett's murder was finally in custody.

The duo of formidable crime fighters, writer and muse, then turned to face their colleagues and friends. They were both smiling. Finally, all was right in the universe. Well, maybe not all, but in the small part of it they occupied the change was obvious. Then, Katherine Beckett did something completely out of character for her. She pulled Castle down for a kiss, right there in the middle of the bullpen by the murder board. It only caused the applause to start again, this time louder. Even Captain Victoria 'Iron' Gates was clapping and whistling.

"Thank you Rick," Kate whispered. "For everything."

"You are welcome, Kate." He held her close. Her walls had come down some time ago, but now they were home free. "Free drinks at the Old Haunt for all the people from the 12th today and tomorrow," he announced to the cheers of all the others. "Pass the word!"

"Not so fast, Castle. We have paperwork to do," a laughing Beckett brought him crashing back to reality.

"Let's do it then. The faster we're done the better."

"I thought I'd never live to see the day… Richard Castle, doing paperwork," she teased.

"Savor the moment, Detective, because it's going to be a one-time only deal. But you still have the perfect partner."

"I really do."

-o-

"You were right all along, Kate. Third time really is the charm," a beaming Richard Castle said, slipping a ring on her finger.

"I found my one and done, Rick. You." She placed an identical but somewhat larger ring on his finger.

"By the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife," Bob, aka Big Cheese, said. He'd called Castle and told him that he would perform the ceremony the moment he learned about his old friend applying for a marriage license. He'd beaten Judge Markway to the punch, too. "You may kiss the bride."

All the guests applauded wildly. Some cheered. Others kissed as well. Most were wiping tears of joy from their eyes. Rick gave Kate a bearing for the bouquet toss. It flew true and landed in Lanie Parish's hands, just like the newlyweds intended.

"I just realized something," Kate said on the way down, where a car was waiting to take them to the airport.

"What?"

"The third time was the charm for me, too. I mean, the loft was the third place I lived in since I met you."

He thought about it for a few seconds. "I must say you're right. The first one got blown up, the second flooded… the loft was the third residence you moved in to. I guess third time was the charm for both of us."

**THE END**

**That's all, Folks! Thanks for reading!**


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